


The Last Quest

by Bekbek



Series: Monsters and Mana Colab [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I'm Sorry, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Major Character Injury, Monsters & Mana (Voltron), it'll be ok, semi-graphic wounds, they said I couldn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29203680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bekbek/pseuds/Bekbek
Summary: I imagine the team has played M&M a few more times since the first time we saw them!Shiro: Human Paladin (yes again)Keith: Teifling RougeLance: Changling BardPidge: Fire SpriteHunk: Human BarbarianZarkon: Purple Bitch
Series: Monsters and Mana Colab [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144145
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	The Last Quest

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine the team has played M&M a few more times since the first time we saw them!  
> Shiro: Human Paladin (yes again)   
> Keith: Teifling Rouge  
> Lance: Changling Bard  
> Pidge: Fire Sprite  
> Hunk: Human Barbarian   
> Zarkon: Purple Bitch

It was Shiro who fell first of course. Ever brave and more loyal than they could dream of deserving. And  _ worse,  _ it was for them. The last shield he had to offer in their attempt to save the world. That didn't make it hurt any less. That didn't make Keith's scream any quieter to hear. That didn't mask the sound of Zarkons cruel chuckle. That didn’t make it any easier for the rest of them to use the time he bought them and run. That didn't make the taste of blood any better to swallow. 

Only later that evening, or maybe it was already the next day Hunk didn’t even know anymore, when they collapsed panting and crying did it really hit him. Their leader, protector, Paladin, brother and friend, wasn’t going to light the fire. He wasn’t going to crack terrible jokes while bandaging them up. He wasn’t going to be there to see them succeed, or be there to fail besides them.  _ He wasn’t there.  _ It didn’t seem real, Hunk kept expecting Shiro to pop out of the bushes bloody yet smiling. He didn’t. Shiro was only the first. 

Maybe they should have expected for Keith to follow in his brother's footsteps. Even on a good day Shiro tended to be his impulse control, and with Shiro…  _ gone.  _ Keith was hurting, angry, and more than willing to throw his life away in the quest of revenge. Not even Lance practically begging for Keith to slow down, to  _ think,  _ to remember that they needed Keith. No one expected him to sneak away on his watch, no one expected to wake up to cold ashes and a scrawled out apology letter. The Rouge was an amazing tracker, and even better at staying hidden. Maybe he didn’t count on Lance being able to track him across the wilds and all the way to the Galran base. Or maybe he just didn’t care. 

They were too slow. 

Zarkon didn’t even bother trying to hide the body. They just left him in the dirt, clinging bloody mud turned cold. His eyes were open, tear tracks the only part of his face left clean. He was still wearing Shiro’s cape, royal purple fabric ripped to shreds. The noise that ripped out of Lance would have been more at home coming from the big cats he so loved. He ran through the meadow, uncaring if there were any Galra left and slammed to his knees at his husband's side. Hunk had to hold Pidge back as the Galra started melting from the shadows. 

He wanted to puke. Lance had always been fast and vicious, but watching the changeling  _ rip  _ through the Galra like they were warm butter was an entirely different matter. Hunk could so easily remember the days when Lance made his living by crooning love songs to willing listeners, remembered the day they picked up Pidge from the stocks and could never be separated, remembered how often they laughed until they couldn't breath over the silliest things. It was like Hunk was watching a completely different person. And as much as it hurt, as much as he hated himself, he could not leave Pidge’s side. 

The youngest of their bunch didn’t seem to care about the brutal gash in her thigh. Not as she screamed and struggled, as she  _ begged  _ for Lance to run. Yet it was like he couldn’t hear them. And no matter how many bodies Lance left behind there was always another to attack him. Another to slowly grind down his defenses. Hunk almost broke, almost signed away his own life when one of them landed a lucky hit, puncturing straight through Lances shoulder. Lance only managed to stay standing by the grace of the gods, and when he turned to look at them he was smiling through the tears. 

“Look after yourselves for me, alright?” the whisper barely reached them from where Hunk held Pidge. 

He nodded, sobbing loudly as Lance backed away from the oncoming Galra. After so long of them traveling together they had gotten good at recognizing when something was hopeless. Even after all the slaughtering Lance had done there were still too many, and while Hunk could rage and possibly take out the rest there was still Pidge. And he knew that Lance wouldn’t want to live without his husband, had made that clear before. So he would bear witness, and he would fulfill his friends last wish. He didn’t blink as Lance settled to his haunches, linking hands with Keith and tilting his chin up like a challenge. 

Hunk didn’t look away when the Galra beheaded the man who had been his best friend since they were toddlers. The sound of it hitting the ground broke something deep inside him, but nothing could be worse than the sight of the smile still lingering on his face. Finally,  _ finally,  _ he turned away, slinging a raging Pidge over his shoulder and sprinting for all he was worth. They had to manage to get away, Hunk had lost everything else. He refused to lose her too. 

“I’ll see you in the sunlight my friend.” a traditional goodbye, and one he had wished to never say to one of his friends. 

He ran and ran and ran. Until Pidge fell silent, until the light faded and the moon rose, until even his stamina failed him and he fell to his knees. Hunk had no idea where they had ended up, just prayed that it was safe. His muscles twitched and screamed, wounds from the previous battles taking precedence. Pidge carefully slid from his shoulder, limping deeply as fresh blood stained her trousers. Hours, or maybe minutes, she patted him gently across the face. He blinked back into focus, barely registering the silent tears still streaming down his face. Pidge hefted him to his feet, struggling under his bulk but not complaining. 

Together they staggered to rest in a hollow beneath a tree. A snap of Pidge’s fingers had a small fire burning, filling the air with smoke. Hunk nearly fell to the ground, barely able to feel his legs let alone control them. Pidge sank to her haunches, ever so gently tugging on his bangs in an attempt to have him respond. He just dully looked down at her, unable to bring himself out of his numb shell. The tick he did he knew he would  _ shatter.  _ He couldn’t afford that yet, maybe tomorrow, maybe never. Pidge sighed deeply, twisting to lean against his side and take her own rest. Hunk passed the night watching the fire burn, until even that sputtered and died. 

Eventually the light returned, the world kept spinning even though nothing mattered anymore. Pidge was still asleep against him, so still and cold without her fire. Hunk carefully nudged her shoulder, but her eyes only cracked open before slipping closed again. It was deserved, she had used nearly all of her fire magic in the fight from the day before, and lost a huge amount of blood on top of that. He shifted her off of him, letting her lean fully into the tree. He forced himself to his feet, struggling to ignore his body near screaming in agony. They needed food, and all of their supplies had either been ruined or left behind. 

Hunk draped his warm brown cloak over Pidge’s tiny form and began his search. He was fairly successful all things considered, managing to gather enough berries to fill his small satchel. He made his way back to Pidge, feeling his heart lurch at how still and pale she was. She had looked better even while snarling and cursing in the stocks. Not all limp and ruined like she was now. He hurried to her side, barely getting a response from the noise. 

“Pidge I have some food, you need to eat.” 

Her head fell loosely to the side, eyes opening just enough for him to see how dilated her pupils were, “-m not hungry.” she managed to slur out.

“Just a little okay? You need to eat to regain your strength.” 

Pidge groaned unhappily, but allowed him to slip a handful of berries past her lips. She dully ate them, and sipped at the water he held to her mouth before drifting off again. Hunk closed his eyes and offered a silent prayer to the gods before he lifted the edge of his cloak and took a look at her leg. The gash was easily longer than the span of even his hands, and pushed deep into the meat. Angry red swelling filled the area around it, making the veins leading away show through her skin. He ran a little water over it, gaining a low groan for his efforts. The cleaning only made the wound look that much worse, but at least it wasn’t bleeding anymore. He needed to find a village, somewhere with a healer and quickly. He easily picked her up, barely a noticeable weight in his arms. 

Hunk walked. On and on and on, following the sun's path. Pidge woke a few times, but for the most part he spent the time alone with only his thoughts. And that, that was something dangerous. As his anger reached higher and higher, twisting itself into something dark and ugly, he had to be certain his grip did not start to hurt Pidge. He only stopped his march when he could no longer see, his body's complaints had long since been soundly pushed away and ignored. He set Pidge’s still form on the ground, trying to pillow her head on his cloak while also keeping her covered. She had grown so cold, but wasn’t shivering anymore. 

They would need more water. Hunk hadn’t stopped to eat the berries he had collected, but fresh water would be needed to clean Pidges wound and keep them alive. He took one last look at Pidge before leaving her to try and find the stream he could just barely hear. The forest was strangely silent around him, it felt like his head was stuffed full of cotton. Over and over and over the past few days looped through his mind, steadily rotting him from the inside out. Not even the sight of the glinting silver stream could bring a smile to his face no matter how much he would normally be ecstatic. He knelt down, sinking his water skein to fill it. 

Really, if it hadn’t been so silent he might not have glanced up. But he did, and caught sight of a shocked Pidge staring at him from across the water. Hunk rocketed to his feet, carelessly stepping into the stream. He hadn’t realized how pale Pidge had become, how dull and lifeless she looked until she was standing there whole and hale. Color had thankfully returned to her face, eyes practically glinting in the gloom. 

“Pidge! What are you doing, you should still be resting,” he nearly tripped over his words in his excitement. 

Pidge flinched back, hands raising as if to ward him off. Hunk froze in place, sure that he was visibly shaking under the weight of his relief. He didn’t want to startle her, and knew better than to push the fire sprites boundaries. 

“Hunk wha-” 

“I’m sorry Pidge, I wouldn’t have left you behind if I thought you were going to wake up.” 

Pidge shook her head roughly, one hand raising to cover her mouth. Hunk cocked his head, trying to figure out if she was going to be sick. If her leg was paining her that much he couldn’t imagine that she could have walked all the way to the stream without help. His eyes darted down, taking in the undamaged stretch of her trousers. His belly kicked uneasily, even if she had any trousers to change into there was no way there wouldn’t have been blood on them after a walk. Slowly he pulled his eyes back to her face, taking in the tears streaming down her own cheeks. 

“Pidge?” oh he sounded so young in that one word. 

“I’m sorry, oh Gods Hunk I’m so sorry.” 

He finally made that final step, reaching out to gather her into his arms. But when his hands would have grabbed her by the shoulders, instead they passed straight through her form. His heart stopped in his chest, almost not registering what happened. Pidge flickered in place, the ground showing through her body before coming back into focus. 

“No.” he fell back, landing in the stream but not caring. 

Not as Pidge flickered harder, the smell of smoke starting to fill the air. It wasn’t, it  _ couldn’t,  _ be real. This had to be one of Zarkons tricks. Hunk couldn’t  _ wouldn’t  _ accept it. 

“Hunk listen, you have to go. Please, you're the last of us left, you have to warn people that Zarkon is coming, that he is stronger than anyone ever believed. You have to tell King Alfor to prepare for war.” 

Hunk swallowed around nothing, already shaking his head in denial.  _ She couldn’t be.  _ They had been so sure that this quest was going to be an easy one. That the most they would have to worry about was the actual trip deep into the Galran mountains. There was no way that  _ everything  _ could be ruined. That his  _ whole world  _ had been destroyed around him. Hunk forced himself to his feet, ignoring the apparition at his side even when it tried to grab hold of him. The Druids were known for their cruel tricks, and when he found the one that was casting the illusion he would  _ destroy it.  _

He marched through the trees, not flinching when sounds suddenly came rushing back. Finally he re-entered the clearing where he had left Pidge, fully prepared to spend another sleepless night watching over her.  _ Where was she?  _ He was across the space before he had time to feel his stomach drop out, roughly yanking away his crumpled cloak. Grey ash drifted free, the smell of smoke all that was left of his last friend. Hunk fell to his knees, pain lost under the sea of  **rage** . Fire sprites left no body behind, just a sprinkling of ash. It was something that Pidge had told them all long ago, but not a single one of them had ever thought they would be bearing witness to the phenomenon. 

One shaking hand reached out, dragging through the ash. He grabbed his hair and tugged, roughly scrubbing at his face in some effort to  _ wake up.  _ Desperately wishing that this was nothing but a dream. It didn’t work. Fists clenched Hunk let the rage fill his mind, lift from his body in a haze of electricity. Anger was safe. Anger was painless. Anger would carry him through the _ hell he would reign down. _ Slowly he rose from his knees, easily lifting his mom's battle axe from his back. The grip was familiar in his hand, and Hunk could have swore it laughed in delight at the blood that would soon wet its blade. 

He swung his dirty cloak back around his shoulders and turned the direction they had come from. He was not the most skilled tracker, but even after a two day journey he could still see the barren peak Zarkon called home. With a clear destination ahead of him Hunk started his march, long into the night and through the next day until he could no longer force his body to keep moving. And even when he finally stopped, collapsing where he stood he never looked away. As he swallowed the soft and bruised berries, as he took a grindstone to his axe for the final time, until he passed out his gaze stayed focused. 

With nothing to slow him, and with no regard for his own health Hunk reached the forest surrounding Zarkons castle within two days. Maybe any other time he would have been horrified over what he was planning. Any other time he would have been surrounded by his loved ones offering suggestions and urging caution. Any other time he wouldn’t start laughing at the first Galra he split in half. This was not any other time. 

As Hunk slaughtered his way through the grunts he couldn’t help but notice that this was barely a fraction of the forces he knew Zarkon controlled. Which meant they had likely all retreated to the castle in an attempt to head him off. The thought made a feral grin stretch across his face.  _ They were just making it easier for him to hunt them down.  _ By the time he finally caught sight of the castle his muscles were burning from use and blood had made his grip slightly treacherous. He took the tick to pause, sucking down air and wiping off his sweaty hands. There were a handful of sentries patrolling the walls, but still nowhere near as many as he expected. 

Still, as soon as Hunk was able to get his pulse under control he sprinted out of the shadows. Arrows rained from the sentries that noticed his approach, but for the most part he was able to dodge. And the ones he couldn’t were either blocked by his thick armor or didn’t constrict his movement. As soon as he got close enough Hunk slung his axe back onto his back and took a running jump up the wall. Thankfully its was an old stone, crumbling with age and weather. He was easily able to dig his fingers into the crack and haul himself upwards. He could hear the panicked cries of the sentries raising the alarm, but that wasn’t an issue in his mind. 

He crested the side of the wall, going cross eyed at the sword that swung right in front of his nose. With one hand he reached up, blocking the next swing in a shower of sparks and holding himself up with the other. The soldier went wide eyed and scuttled back, giving Hunk plenty of room to haul himself over the edge. He punched the guard across the jaw, following the blow up by grabbing its collar and tossing the body over the edge. The next soldier came running, and Hunk lost himself in the easy back and forth of bloodshed. He earned more than his share of shallow wounds, fighting carelessly and with more focus of dropping enemies quickly. They barely registered through his anger, just enough of a sting to catch his attention for a tick before he moved on. 

He slaughtered his way through the guards, clearing through the castle fairly quickly all things considered. He still wasn’t meeting as much resistance as he had expected, but Hunk wasn’t going to complain. The further he could get without taking too much damage the more likely he would be able to find and  _ end  _ Zarkon. He slunk into the castle, knowing that the alarm had to have preceded him. Zarkon had to know he was coming, but it didn’t matter. If anything, his allowance of his soldiers to be cannon fodder was just pissing Hunk off more. Alfor would never treat his prized army like so much trash. Finally he entered the dingy Throne Room, dim light making it nearly impossible to see to the end of the hall. 

“Well, and here I thought that your little group had been soundly dealt with.” 

Hunk whirled around, trying to pinpoint the echoing voice. It was definitely Zarkon, but he wasn’t visible. The sound of a rough chuckle slipped from the shadows in all directions. Hunk gripped his axe just a little tighter, cocked his chin up a little higher and walked forwards. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the gloom, finally making out the shape of Zarkon lounging across his throne.  _ Like he had nothing to worry about, like Hunk wasn’t there to destroy him.  _ It made his rage get all that much stronger, steadying him on his feet. 

“You thought wrong. That was a mistake.” 

Zarkon tossed his head back on a cackle, not even flinching at the threat. Instead he just casually waved one hand, summoning easily a hundred soldiers from the gloom. Hunks belly kicked anxiously, already calculating how much damage he would have to do and how quickly. He settled into a slight crouch, bringing his axe to bear and getting ready. It was easy to slide back into that headspace, easy to keep himself moving and swinging. The wounds he earned were definitely much worse than he could afford, blood loss making his head foggy. Yet still, he was winning. Zarkon had finally stopped lounging, taking notice of the slaughter happening at his feet. 

By the time Hunk finally separated the last head from the last body Zarkon had rose to his feet and was watching with his arms crossed. Hunk panted in the center of the bodies, doing his best to just stay upright. The injuries were finally taking their toll, even a raging barbarian could only go for so long. But there was one last thing that he needed to do, one last task or him to complete before he could rest. He bared his teeth at Zarkon in a feral smile, silently daring the King to come down and meet him. Zarkon just sighed, rolling his eyes and drawing his blade. Hunk nearly wanted to puke at the sight of dried blood still clinging to it.  _ Shiros blood.  _

Another tick and the due exploded into motion, bodily throwing each other around and desperately trying to end it. Zarkon was easily the better fighter, especially with Hunk already exhausted and flagging. But he was still not giving it his all trekking Hunk more like a minor problem than a threat. Hunk on the other hand could feel his own death looming, and was fighting like it. With every vicious strike he landed he was pushing Zarkon back, aiming for anything that could bring the dark king to his knees. Finally,  _ finally,  _ he got lucky, dragging his axe in a brutal back handed swing across Zarkons face. 

He only had a tick to celebrate his victory before pain blasted through his mind. His gaze darted down, taking in the sword thrust through his armor and out of his chest. He drug his eyes back up, blood slipping past his lips and down his chin. Zarkon was smiling, even with one of his eyes ruined and his nose hanging on by a thin strip of skin. Slowly he twisted the blade in Hunks chest, the sound of metal grinding on bone filling his entire existence. Hunk couldn’t even find the air to scream, frozen in the moment where nothing else mattered but the never ending pain. 

“I’ll be sure to tell Alfor you tried.” 

Zarkon shoved Hunk to the side, leaving that sword still buried in his chest as he walked away. Hunk tried to shove himself up, he  _ really  _ did, but all he managed to do was twitch one hand. The bitter sense of failure filled him, nearly over shadowing the pain and anger still making a hope in his mind. He could feel the warmth from his blood sliding across his chilled skin, trickling steadily away. His vision started to fade, going cloudy and grey in a way that he knew meant his end. And he hadn’t managed to kill Zarkon, but he had taken out a solid chunk of his forces, and possibly blinded him. Everything he could do to get his revenge, and to help Alfor. 

Hunk relaxed against the cold stones, letting his body go slack and just waiting for his end. It was close, he couldn’t help but to smile. Soon he would be back with his friends, the reunion hadn’t taken long after all. He was probably going to get yelled at for being reckless, but it would be deserved. Though in his own defense, he wasn’t the only one. He allowed his eyes to slide closed, walking into death's arms with as much grace as he could manage.  _ I’m coming home guys, hope you’re waiting for me.  _

~~~ 

_ Hunk blinked awake, only having a second to register the Paladins lounge room before he had a lapful of a sobbing Pidge. Lance was only a beat behind her, wrapping himself around Hunks shoulders in a massive hug. Keith was there only a second later, leaning up against Hunks side in his silent offer of comfort. Shiro came behind him, placing his hands on both of Hunks shoulders and squeezing. He carefully pulled the Monsters and Mana rig off of his head, silently promising himself that he would not be playing that fully immersive version ever again, unless they were going to use it for a beach vacation.  _

_ “Don't you  _ ever  _ scare us like that, understand?” Pidge snarled against his chest, shaking him gently.  _

_ Hunk just nodded, not even trying to wipe away the tears sliding down his face. He wrapped his friends up in his arms, squeezing them against him just to remind himself that everyone was okay. That they were all still together and safe. He was home.  _


End file.
